


Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down Swingin’

by AuthorOutOfTime



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost Dying, Background Destiel, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Sex, Smut, Unsafe Sex, Very weak excuse for a plot, always use protection kiddos, basically an excuse for smut, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 13:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18447755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorOutOfTime/pseuds/AuthorOutOfTime
Summary: After getting hurt on a hunt, you accidentally pray to Gabriel, and all sorts of dramatic shenanigans ensue I’m terrible at summaries I’m so sorry. (Unbeta’d all mistakes are my own but you notice and point them out I’ll probably cry and fix them!)





	Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down Swingin’

There would always be those record-scratch moments. You know the ones in the movies, the record scratches, the music stops, and a voiceover comes along saying something to the effect of, ‘you’re probably wondering how I got myself into this mess.’  
This was decidedly a record-scratch moment. Or it would have been if you weren’t hauling ass trying to avoid the wendigo that had suddenly veered off from Sam and Dean and came after you.  
You hurled to the left behind a tree. Unfortunately, the enormous, hairy bastard had the same idea, but came from the opposite side. You were wrapped in it’s spindly, sinewy arms before it dug its claws deeply into your left shoulder, slashing through your clothes and skin in burning, bloody tears from shoulder to hip. The molotov cocktail you were holding shattered as it slipped from your hand and landed on a rock, splashing cheap booze all over. The astringent scent stung your nose as you tried to draw breath. The wendigo dropped you as the scent of alcohol bloomed around you.  
You barely registered the shouts and noise, but you could feel the heat from a fire on your face. You just weren’t fast enough this time, but at least that thing was going out with you. You could be at peace with that, you though. And then another thought came, unbidden and unexpected. Cas could help you, was, in fact, on his way, but he wasn’t the droid you were looking for at that moment.  
_Gabriel_ , you think.  
You felt yourself being dragged back into someone’s lap, and there were huge, paw-like hands pressing against your chest in an obviously futile effort to stem the flow of blood.  
“Sam,” you said, or maybe thought, you’re not sure. You were so cold and couldn’t really draw any air into your lungs.  
“Move,” a voice snapped, and suddenly, Gabriel lifted your face. “Hey, Sugar, look at me. Just hang on.”  
“‘Tis but a scratch,” you choke out, blood pouring from your mouth. There is a flash through his eyes, almost like lightning, there and gone, but maybe not because the edges of your vision were getting dark, and there were sparkles like stars swimming across what was left of your vision. Lack of oxygen, your brain supplied helpfully.  
“Uh-huh. We gotta work on your timing, Sugar.” Gabriel looked up at Sam. “Eyes closed, Samshine. Cover hers, too.”  
After being so cold, the warmth suddenly radiating through your body burned. It was like drowning in sunshine. You could see it through Sam’s hand over your closed eyelids, feel it coursing through your veins. Your flesh pulled from the inside out, knitting itself back together. You could finally take a breath. By the time you exhaled, you were wrapped in a cocoon of liquid gold, pillowed in softness and surrounded by the faint scent of ozone, caramel, coffee, and bourbon - Gabriel. Your last thought as sleep overtook you was of being safe, and that you were probably still alive, but if this was heaven, it wasn’t so bad.

When you awoke, it was to an empty bed in your room in the bunker. You flopped over on your side, intent on going back to sleep when you spotted Gabriel sitting across the room on the overstuffed chair in the corner.  
You smiled softly, watching him for a moment.  
“Hey, Tricks,” you mumbled.  
“Hey, Sugar,” he replied on a sigh, sounding for all the world like the millennia-old creature that he was.  
“You look like shit,” you said. And he did. Angels may not have any use for sleep, but Gabriel was one of the few who indulged, just because he could. Right now, though, it looked like he hadn’t slept in days.  
“Come lay down with me. I’m cold.” You lift the blanket in invitation.  
He was in bed with you before you knew what hit you and you curled up against him. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pet your hair. “How are you feeling?”  
“Cold. Tired. Good, other than that. No pain or anything. Thanks for that,” you said, you said, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes.  
“Rest,” Gabe said, pressing your head back down to his chest.  
“Who changed my clothes?” you asked.  
“I did.” His smile was cheeky when you looked up. He held up four fingers “Just a snap. Scout’s honour.”  
“You were never a boy scout. And it’s these three,” you said, moving his hand into the correct configuration.  
“My vessel might’ve been. I don’t really know. He’s been dead for so long now that most of his memories are gone.”  
“That’s weird,” you said.  
Gabriel shrugged noncommittally. “When you’re not so cold and tired, you and I need to have a conversation about your serious lack of a sense of self-preservation.”  
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you demanded, trying to sit up.  
“I said, rest. We can talk later,” he said calmly, keeping you pinned against him.  
You struggle for a few seconds, cursing his grace to Chuck and back, before you decide to employ guerilla tactics. You stopped fighting him and simply flung an arm over his waist.  
“That’s better,” he said, seeming satisfied that you were going to stay where you were for the time being. He gripped your wrist, stroking the inside of it, effectively staying your hand. “However, you should know that if you go through with tickling me, I will snap you back to high school and you’ll be running around in nothing but your underwear, so don’t even try me.”  
“Don't read my mind,” you snap, trying a different tactic of pushing him off the edge of the bed. When this proved to be a sisyphean task, you contented yourself with glaring at him.  
“Don’t try to one up me, toots. You’ll never surprise me. I know all your dark little secrets.”  
“Let me up,” you sigh.  
“No, I don’t think I will. I think if you’re feeling up to trying to shove me off of the bed, then you’re going to stay right here and listen to what I have to say. You, sweetheart, are going to get yourself killed. You’re benched until further notice.”  
“What?!” you screech, your voice harsh even to your own ears. You pull away in earnest now, readying yourself for battle. Unfortunately, Gabriel just happened to let go as you were pushing away, and you went ass over tea kettle off of the bed and onto the floor.  
Gabriel swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted them on either side of your ribs. “Sorry, but I can’t have you running off half-cocked and having your chest shredded again.” He held out his hand to help you up. “I rather like that chest. It’s a great chest. Fills out a t-shirt just right.”  
You shimmy out from between his feet and stand on your own. “I swear to god if you don’t leave right now -”  
“I’m pretty sure dear old dad isn’t listening to you at the moment, so swear all you want. You’re done.” Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and drew himself up to his full height. Despite the fact that he wasn’t that much taller than you, at least compared to Sam and Dean, he somehow managed to out-intimidate both of them. Must be his mojo, you think, distractedly.  
“That’s not your call, Gabriel!” You slid your glasses roughly onto your face so you could see who you were arguing with.  
“Well I clearly can’t trust these chuckleheads to keep you safe, and I’m certainly not traipsing all over the damn country chasing your ass around when it would be way more fun to chase it around right here,” he said with a lascivious wink.  
“Absolutely not. You don’t get to tell me I’m stuck in this damn bunker. I’m not a child.” You spun on your heel and headed for the door, intent on showing him the way out. “You need to leave, or I will banish your ass, don’t think I won’t.”  
“You won’t,” he said smugly.  
“Try me,” you challenged.  
“You’re staying home. That’s final. Sam, Dean, and Cas agree. We can’t let something happen to you. You’re on research until further notice.” And with that, Gabriel walked out your door.  
“Just a damn minute!” you called, following him down the hall.  
“Sorry, sweets, you almost died,” he said over his shoulder.  
“Whose idea was this?!” you asked,  
“We all agreed,” he said. And with that, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.  
“You dicks!” you shouted, stomping toward the kitchen.  
Cas, Dean, and Sam were sat around the kitchen table, sipping coffee and working their way through various breakfast dishes. They looked up when you walked in, all thoroughly unimpressed by your anger.  
“I am not being relegated to research,” you said through gritted teeth.  
“Yes, you are,” Dean said passively.  
“Absolutely not. You need me. That was not my fault!” You began pacing the length of the kitchen.  
“Be that as it may, you were dying. Take a couple hunts off. It won’t hurt,” Sam said, aiming for reasonable.  
“For once, we agree with Gabriel,” Cas said.  
You stopped and spun around. “This was his idea?”  
“Yeah, well, considering the fact that he’s -” Dean began.  
“He’s the one that had to wash your blood off of his hands, maybe you should cut him some slack?” Sam interrupted. His leg twitched and Dean jerked, glaring daggers.  
“No. He knows the risks of this life.” You raised your voice so he was sure to hear you. “He can’t keep his damn nose out of everyone else’s business.”  
“That’s a low blow,” Cas muttered.  
There was a crack and shock of electricity zipping up your spine, and suddenly Gabriel was back, right in front of you, his eyes stormy. “Now, wait just a minute, Sugar. You prayed to me so don’t sit here and tell me that I’m just supposed to let you die because you’re too damn stubborn to admit that you fucked up.”  
“I did not pray to you, and I did not make a fucking mistake!” you shouted.  
“I’m sorry, but you did,” Cas said, clearly hoping to quell the explosions brewing between you and Gabriel. “Pray to Gabriel? I heard it, clear as a bell. He got there before I could have, and he’s the one that healed you.”  
“Whether or not you made a mistake is irrelevant at this point. You’re done. End of story,” Gabriel said.  
“If you think -”  
“Enough!” Cas said, his tone causing Sam’s and Dean’s eyebrows to practically meet their hairlines. Cas didn’t snap often.  
“He started it!” you said at the exact same time Gabriel said, “She started it!”  
“I don’t care who started it. Come with me, both of you!” Cas said, standing and grabbing your wrist and dragging you over to Gabriel. Gabriel may have had a few extra pounds of muscle on his side, but Cas’s grip on his ear had him following whether he liked it or not. Ignoring both of your protestations, he hauled you both in the direction of your bedroom. “You’re both going to stay in here until you’ve quashed whatever this is. And do us all a favor and just...have relations!”  
With that, the door slammed shut and disappeared, leaving you staring after him in shock.  
“Did he just tell us to have sex?” you demanded.  
“Last time I checked, ‘have relations’ is, in fact, Castiel for fucking, yes, but you’d have to ask Dean to confirm,” Gabriel said with a smirk. “But I find it fascinating that that is your primary concern when, in fact, it should be that we can’t leave.”  
He wiggled his eyebrows and sauntered over until he was right up in your personal space. “So whataya say, Sugar? Wanna go to bed with me?”  
“I say don’t start your fucking flirting. The last thing I need is you going all Pizza Man on me.” Whether that’s what you want or not, now is not the time. You told your hormones to calm tf down. So what if you had fantasies about that very thing? Gabriel was incredibly attractive, and he knew it. A little flirting once in a while was fine, but lately he’d been laying it on pretty thick, and NOW WAS NOT THE TIME! “You need to be helping me figure out how to get out of here. Can’t you just snap us out?”  
“Nope,” he said cheerfully, popping the ‘p’. “Cassie must have put a sigil up. He’s getting quicker on the draw.”  
“Fine, I’ll banish you, and then you can just snap yourself back to the kitchen and make Cas let me out,” you said, grabbing the pocket knife from your bedside table. One more scar on your arm in the grand scheme of things was worth the blood you’d spill to get yourself out of this.  
“Gimme that,” Gabriel snapped before you could cut yourself.  
“So we’re stuck here?”  
“Yes, and, at a guess, he probably soundproofed the room so that they don’t have to listen to us making up, so we may as well make the best of it, cupcake. Let’s get more comfortable.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and you were both dressed in silky pyjamas with little cartoons hearts all over them. “So much better. Jeans are so...constricting, aren’t they? Now what’s this about a Pizza Man?” He sauntered up to you and wrapped his arms around you from behind, hooking his chin over your shoulder. He was certainly curious about where you had learned about the Pizza Man. He could probably thank Dean for that. Not that he was thrilled. It was during his hedonistic stage. Just because it lasted most of his time hiding out on earth, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a changed man, er, angel. If there was anyone capable of making him feel even remotely chagrined about making porn, it was you. And chagrined he felt.  
You stepped out of his arms and sat down criss-cross applesauce on the foot of your bed, drawing a pillow over your lap. “Oh hell no, I’m still mad at you. You can’t keep me locked down in here forever, Gabe. I don’t even know why this time is such a big deal. I’ve been in stickier situations.”  
“No you haven’t,” he said seriously. He sat down in front of you, close enough that your knees were touching. “Sugar, you were dying. Your entire chest was torn apart. You prayed to me whether you remember it or meant to or not, and I came. Now, I’m doing the only thing I can to keep you safe.”  
“If I concede that it was bad -”  
“You we’re dying,” Gabriel stressed.  
“Can you please concede that nothing is going to keep me safe forever, and stop acting like some sort of overprotective dad?” you asked.  
“I do love it when you call me ‘daddy.’”  
“Gabriel, stop.”  
“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” he asked, leaning back against the headboard, hands locked behind his head and legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He was the picture impish seduction. His eyes raked down over your chest, zeroing in on the cleavage just barely visible in the deep v of your pyjama top.  
“Just stop,” you sighed in frustration. It was embarrassing enough to be lusting after someone, let alone when that someone was an Angel of the Lord™. But pining because he was flirting? You didn’t pine. You needed to have a chat with your heart as well as your hormones. You stood up and began pacing the room.  
“Stop what?”  
“You know damn well what!”  
“What?”  
“Flirting with me,” you snapped.  
“Why?” His head cocked to the side just like Castiel’s did sometimes when he was trying desperately to understand the intricacies of human emotion. Maybe he really didn’t get it.  
“Because I went and caught _feelings_ ,” you said, spitting out the word as if it tasted bad. “And you’re taking the whole teasing lothario thing way too far and I’m not comfortable with you saying that kind of thing when it’s obviously not something you’d want.”  
Gabriel stood, muttering what sounded like a swear word in Enochian. “It is something that I want. Maybe not you calling me ‘daddy,’ because we both have too many daddy issues for that to be fun, but,” he spluttered. “Is that really all the more you think of me? A ‘teasing lothario?’ An incorrigible flirt? For the last fucking time, The Pizza Man was a cosmic joke! I’m not that much of a fuckboy. How did you even know about that anyway?”  
“Dean told me.”  
“Of course he did. And what’s this ‘you caught feelings,’ bullshit? You think that’s news? I’ve spent the last 6 months trying to get into your pants, yeah, but I’ve also been trying to get into your heart, too. You wanna talk unfair? You cuddle with me, you feed me, you sleep on top of me, and yet any overt affection is immediately shut down. I know you want more, even if you won’t acknowledge it. So stop shutting me down any time I do anything even remotely forward.”  
“You - what?” _How the fuck could he possibly know?_ _I’m better at hiding my feelings than that, aren’t I?_  
He pinned you with the driest look he could manage. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”  
“I treat you just like I do everyone else!” Your voice trailed off toward the end of that lie even sounded hollow to your own ears.  
“You sleep with Sam? How about Dean and Cassie? Or maybe all four of you sleep in one big dogpile? Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. And if that’s the case, I seriously doubt that you do other things for them that you do for me. Do you keep a stash of their favourite candy hidden in your closet? Do you suffer through Dr. Sexy for them, even though soap operas make you cringe? Do you leave crossword puzzles around for them because you know that they just can’t resist a blank crossword? I know you don’t call for them when you get yourself ripped apart by a wendigo, because it would have been just as easy to call my baby bro. He was right there. So just because you won’t admit it to yourself, that doesn’t make it any less of a fact that you want me just as much as I want you.”  
“How do I know that you’re not just bored and fucking with me?” you ask bluntly.  
“Me standing here yelling at you when I could be literally anywhere else with anyone else should tell you something, Sugar!”  
“You can’t be anywhere else because your baby brother locked us in here,” you snapped. “All that Archangel mojo and you can’t even whammy your way out of here. One little symbol drawn in just the right way, and The Force is no longer with you.”  
“Watch it.” His face was guarded, serious, and devastating with those hot whiskey eyes, scowling at you.  
“That tone doesn’t scare me, Gabe,” you said, tilting your chin up.  
His jaw worked for a few seconds, almost as if he was biting his words back. “Alright. You want me to lay it out?”  
“Yeah, I do.” You meant it to come out haughty, but it fell flat. You were quickly losing your nerve. If he was serious, then you were well and truly screwed. If he touched you, you’d melt.  
“I want you. Okay? I. Want. You. I want you.” He shrugged, looking a little lost. “I’ve wanted you since I popped in here six months ago and instead of that awful musty, sterile smell this place has always had, it smelled like...like home,” he said, a little helplessly.  
“What do you mean ‘home?’” you asked skeptically.  
“It smelled like you. Vanilla and chocolate and cinnamon. And sunshine, like in the Garden when it was fresh and new and beating for the first time on those rolling green hills and everything was warm, and Dad wasn’t fucking with it yet. And there’s something else. I don’t know what it is, but it reminds me of autumn. It’s crisp and bright, like apples, but it’s richer than that, maybe more like the best Irish whiskey I’ve ever tasted from this one distillery in Kerry. It was a real shame when they went under.”  
You blinked up at him, taken aback. Your brain struggled for a sass. Keep it light. Crack a joke. Do whatever you can to hop off of the feels train before it whisked you away to Oh-Shit-I’m-About-To-Admit-My-Feelingsville. “Okay, calm down there, Lord Byron. I’m pretty sure it smelled like that because I was drunk-baking, and not because of me.”  
Gabriel bounced up on his toes, his hands curling up into fists in frustration. “Woman thou art infuriating,” he growled.  
“What’d I do?” you asked.  
“Boy you’re really making me work for it, aren’t you? I meant that every time I come in here, I have to remind myself that I can’t touch you, or kiss you, or take you to bed and keep you there until I’m sure you’re satisfied. I can’t grab your feet and rub them when we’re watching a movie. I can’t come up behind you and wrap my arms around you like I did two minutes ago and enjoy it because you always pull away unless you initiate the touch. I can’t have the things I want, so I content myself with flirting, because if that’s all I can have, then at least I have that.”  
“You don’t mean that.” There’s no way he means it.  
“Every word. Scouts honour,” he said, stepping into your space holding up the correct fingers this time.  
“And what about what I want?” You meant it come out demanding, not breathy.  
“What do you want, Sugar?” He reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.  
You had one last opportunity to lie. If you said no, you knew he would back off - probably for good. That was unconscionable. No more pranks, no more Dr. Sexy, no more falling asleep on the couch with his thigh or shoulder as your pillow. You were sick of fighting how you felt, and of caring what the boys thought.  
“You,” you whispered.  
His arms slipped around your waist, pulling you right up against him. He kissed your forehead and fervently groaned, “Thank Dad.”  
“Ew, no, don’t bring Chuck into this. That’s -”  
You didn’t get to finish, because Gabriel, the man (Angel) who could out-talk a cable news pundit, chose not to use his words for once. He leaned in and shut you up with the best damn kiss you’d ever had.  
In the time it took your brain to catch up to the fact that holy shit you’re kissing Gabe and it’s so damn good, you were well and truly screwed. The ozone-coffee-caramel-bourbon scent that always danced on the edges of your consciousness when he was around intensified, making you feel swoony. The tiny hairs on your arms stood on end, and zippy static shocks raced up your spine as Gabriel’s hands settled against your back.  
You gave back just as good as you got, your fingers sliding into his hair and holding him to you. A soft sound that you would later deny ever making slipped out of your mouth and Gabriel took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.  
You were breathless by the time he began making his way toward your neck. Your hands began to wander, dragging down his lower back to grip his ass. He breathed out a laugh and grabbed your ass in return, pulling your hips flush against his. As you dragged your hands back up his back, he arched into your touch like a big cat, pausing in his ministrations to just rest his head against yours and breathe for a few heartbeats.  
“Are you okay?” you asked worriedly, pulling back to look at him.  
“Oh, Sugar, I’m better than okay. You just touched an extremely sensitive spot,” he said, stopping your hands and wrapping them back around his back.  
“On your back? Are you hurt?” you demanded, tracing your fingers along his spine. When he hissed and arched against you again, you pulled out of his arms and spun him around. “Lift your shirt.”  
“No, I’m not hurt. I promise, I’m not hurt. C’mere.” He led you to the bed and gestured for you to sit, and then tugged his shirt over his head.  
“Damn,” you murmured. He was lean and strong, with a light sprinkling of soft hair on his chest.  
“Like what you see?” he asked confidently.  
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”  
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Just close your eyes. Actually, hide your face. I haven’t done this in a long time and I don’t want to hurt you.” He handed you a pillow and gestured for you to hold it over your face. “Seriously, Sweetcheeks, don’t look. The last thing I want is to burn the eyes out of that pretty little head of yours.”  
Obediently, you slipped your glasses off, closed your eyes, and covered your face with a pillow. The air suddenly had the heavy, charged feeling just before a violent thunderstorm. Just as the feeling was becoming uncomfortable, you heard the pop of blown light bulbs, followed by a light, feathery-sounding whoosh. The pressure in the atmosphere released as the bulbs blew, and Gabriel was there, drawing the pillow away from your face.  
“Open your eyes when you’re ready,” Gabriel said softly.  
You took a deep breath and opened your eyes. Three pairs of wings stood out behind him, tall, golden, and shimmering. Your mouth dropped open a little in surprise, and you blindly reached for your glasses again so that you could see him properly.  
“W…-w-wings,” you mumbled in shock. Glasses settled on your nose, you glance up at him. “Can I touch them?”  
“Yeah, Sugar,” he said. He shook them out a little, causing them to ripple like molten gold.  
You reached out a tentative, trembling hand, gently grazing the feathers with the tips of your fingers. Gabriel drew a slow breath in through his nose.  
“I didn’t...they’re so soft. I didn’t think they’d be this soft,” you murmured in awe.  
“I’m not made of glass. You can get your hands in there if you want,” Gabriel offered.  
“I won’t hurt you?” you asked.  
“You can’t hurt me,” he said.  
After a false start, you buried your hands in the feathers. “So soft,” you whispered.  
It was like nothing you’d ever touched before. Cashmere, kittens, even bird feathers - they all would have felt coarse in comparison. You ran your hands up gently through the feathers, eventually reaching the upper crest of the top-most wing. When you drew your hands over the ridge of bone, Gabriel shivered and a beatific smile spread across his face.  
“Oh, honey, that’s so good.” He flexed his wings as you moved to the other side. “C’mere.”  
You stepped into his arms and felt his wings wrapping around you, too, cocooning you both, and you were forcibly reminded of the feeling of safety and contentment after you’d been healed. You must have been wrapped in his arms and wings when he brought you back to the bunker. You pressed against him, running your hands up his warm, solid, bare chest and around to his back. “Oh, that’s where your wings come out!”  
Gabriel smiled and kissed the top of your head. He groaned softly when you worked your fingers into the muscles there. “Don’t stop.”  
You slipped your hands into the small, ruffled down near the joints and paused.  
“Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly.  
“Is that...oil?” You brought your hands up in front of your face to examine them.  
“Wing oil,” he said.  
“It smells like you. Shut up, I mean it’s like you but super concentrated,” you said when he laughed.  
“Does it...I mean, should I not touch your wings, then?” you asked, unable to keep the crestfallen expression off of your face.  
“You can touch me anywhere you want. I happened to enjoy your ministrations, though, and my wings have always been a hot spot, so by all means, don’t stop on my account.”  
“What’s with the oil?” you asked, looking down at your fingers.  
“It’s like hair conditioner. It’s a big thing to let anyone touch your wings, and it’s even bigger if you allow them to preen you. Aside from the fact that the oil helps maintain the feathers, it also acts as a sort of scent marker. And now you’ve got it all over your hands. Castiel may not even be able to be in the same room with you for awhile.” He kissed you again, guiding your hands around his back once more.  
“Why?” You pressed a kiss to his chest.  
“The smell is overwhelming once it mixes with yours. Cas smells the same things I do when you’re around. I teased him for a long time when he and Dean-o finally hooked up. This place reeked of apple pie and fabric softener for days. For us to be all over each other like this, he likely won’t be able to bear it. It’s going to smell like Pillsbury Dough Boy blew his load all over the bunker. Now, do you want to talk about my brother, or do you,” A kiss on your neck. “Want,” A kiss on the other side. “To do,” A nip below your earlobe. “This?” A nip on the other side.  
“This,” you say eagerly.  
“That’s my girl,” Gabriel muttered against your lips.  
You weren’t sure how long you stood there, wrapped in his wings and arms while he kissed your lips, your neck, your jaw. But when he lightly nipped your earlobe, you gave a full-bodied shudder. You gasped his name just as you clutched him closer, accidentally giving his feathers a sudden, sharp tug.  
Before you knew what hit you, you were flat on your back on the bed with Gabriel’s knee slotted between your thighs and his hands cupping your breasts.  
“Do that again,” he growled.  
“Pull on your feathers?” you asked, feeling ridiculous. _This is my life now._  
“Yes, that too, but…” He took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. “Say my name.”  
“Gabriel.”  
He pressed his knee firmly against you as you squirmed. “Again.”  
“Gabriel,” you said, once again tugging on his feathers.  
“You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned. “I can’t wait to hear you when we’re having relations.”  
You burst out laughing, throwing your head back until he latched onto your throat again. Your laugh became a whine as he sucked a dark mark onto your throat.  
“Gabe, stop. You don’t need to give me a hickey for fuck sake,” you say, laughing when he nipped you in response.  
“Oh, yes, I do. Do you honestly think that I’m finally getting you into bed and not staking my claim?” he asked as he sat back to begin unbuttoning your shirt.  
“Hey!” you cry, batting his hands away.  
“What?” He looked confused  
“Just because I’m in bed with you, that doesn’t mean you own me.” You’re ire only grew when he breathed out a laugh.  
“You’ve been mine since Dad dreamed you into existence,” Gabriel said, leaning down to place soft nibbles down your collar bone.  
“If you think that’s gonna distract me, you’re...wrong,” you said, and only a little breathy. It took every last ounce of self-restraint, but you forced him to look at you, taking his face between your hands and smooshing his cheeks just a little. “What do you mean?”  
He sighed, clearly miffed that you were drawing his attention from your body. “In human terms, I’m your guardian angel. Back when he was planning everything, Dad decided that we would each have a person to guard at all times. One person dies, the next one is born, so on and so forth, as nauseum et infinitum. You, Sugar, are my current ward.”  
You let go of his face, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact. Your next question could make or break whatever the hell it was that you had started together. “But...I mean correct me if I’m wrong but you don’t usually go around sleeping with your wards, do you?”  
“No,” he said slowly. “I’ve never slept with anyone I was tasked with guarding.”  
“Then why me?”  
“I don’t know. Dad’s grand design? For whatever reason, your beautiful, silvery soul calls to mine, and I’m so happy that we’ve finally got here, but if I don’t touch you soon, I’m gonna explode.” He ground his hips into you, his erection pressing into your thigh.  
“Promise?” you asked in a small voice.  
“That I’ll explode?” he teased. “No, I know what you meant, and I swear on black liquorice,” he replied, offering you a piece out of thin air.  
You scoffed out a laughed. “Ew, no that’s gross. How can you eat that? And we’re finishing this conversation later because I don’t think th-” He didn’t get to find out what you didn’t think, because suddenly his lips were on yours, and you were reaching for the waistband of his pants. One snap later, and you were both nude.  
“That is so useful,” you muttered, reaching between you to lightly grip him.  
“Oh, Sugar,” he sighed, his hips moving in little involuntary thrusts against your hand.  
“Jesus, you’re big,” you muttered, twisting your wrist, making him shudder.  
Gabriel smirked down at you. “You know what to do with that, right?”  
“Bop it, twist it, pull it?” you replied innocently.  
“My dick ain’t a party game, Sugar,” he said with a laugh.  
“Harder, better, faster, stronger?” You were struggling to hold back your laughter. “Cha cha real smooth?”  
Gabriel’s laugh turned into a groan as you reached down and cupped his balls, never ceasing the teasing strokes to his cock. “Can I -”  
“You can do whatever you want to me. You’re running this show.”  
“Can you lay on your back?”  
“Can you?” he replied, waggling his eyebrows.  
“You - ugh you’re the worst. Your wings. Do they get in the way?”  
“No worse than your breasts when you lay on your stomach.” To punctuate his words, he leaned down and sucked your nipple lightly. Your back arched as he blew gently, making the wet, pink bud tighten.  
“It’s that uncomfortable?” you asked.  
“Wait, laying on your stomach is uncomfortable?”  
“With these?” you asked incredulously, cupping your breasts and jiggling them a little. Gabriel appeared to stop listening as you brought your hands up. “Gabe!”  
“Yeah, Sugar?” he finally replied distractedly. It took a second longer for him to look back up at your face. “Sorry, what?”  
Any lingering self-consciousness you may have been feeling evaporated and you leaned up to kiss him. “You’re ridiculous. Can you lay back or not? I was kinda hoping to get my mouth on your cock before the next apocalypse and I want you to be comfortable.”  
Gabriel immediately flipped you so that you were on top of him. “Don’t let me stop you.”  
You leaned down and kissed him again, sinking your hands into his wings once again. His response was to jerk so hard that he almost bucked you off of him. “You keep that up and we’re not gonna get to the main event.”  
“Yeah, we will,” you replied, kissing your way down his chest. His abs clenched as you teased your way over them, and he gave you a heated glare.  
“Woman, don’t you dare.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of it. At least not right now. I’m more interested,” you said, running your tongue gently along the thin trail of hair below his belly button, “in…” You give an undignified snort, unable to make the joke that literally was at the tip of your tongue.  
“You really know how to make a fella feel special, dollface,” Gabriel said. “If I had a little less self-confidence, I’d be insulted.”  
You laid your head against his thigh as you laughed. “I’m sorry,” you wheezed. “I just...I was going to make...a joke...about your li...llicorice whip and I couldn’t…” You dissolved into laughter again, your shoulders shaking hopelessly.  
“Hey! I will have you know that there is nothing whiplike about it. And if you’re naming it after candy, I prefer 100 Grand.”  
You burst into actual, embarrassing giggles, which seemed to delight him. It took you a few seconds to get yourself back under control, and when you did, you caught his stare. It gave you pause. “What?”  
“I like making you laugh,” Gabriel replied, cupping your cheek.  
Maintaining eye contact, you turned and kissed his palm before grabbing his wrist and guiding his thumb between your lips. You sucked lightly, nipping the pad as you drew away. Softly, you asked, “Can I?”  
His eyes flashed with hot desire and he nodded slightly. “Please.”  
Licking your lips, you leaned in and took his tip in your mouth, teasing him with the flat of your tongue. His hips twitched involuntarily and he made a fist with the hand that wasn’t still caressing your cheek. With every bob of your head, you took him deeper, until your nose brushed against the soft curls at the base. He moved his hand from your cheek to your head, not pushing, or even really guiding your movements, just resting there.  
“Oh, Sugar, that mouth,” he muttered, hips stuttering when you swallowed around him. “You look so good with your mouth wrapped around my cock.”  
You set a slow pace, using your hand on what didn’t fit easily into your mouth. His other hand join the first, running his fingers through your hair with both hands as you licked and sucked along his cock. The sounds he made, little growls and gasps, spurred you on. You wanted to make this good for him, because you knew he was going to utterly wreck you. He was an archangel, for Christ’s sake. He had all that mojo, and you? You were just a human. How could your ass possibly measure up?  
“You have GOT to stop thinking, especially like that, while you’ve got my dick in your mouth,” Gabriel said, his hips arching nonetheless. “I can hear every single thought in your head, whether I’m trying or not. This is supposed to be fun. And for the record, I happen to like your ass just the way it measures now.”  
Gabriel grabbed you under your arms and hauled you up his body. When you were straddling his hips, his length trapped between you and his stomach, he grinned. “Now, what to do with you?”  
“I want you to touch me,” you replied, grinding against him.  
Gabriel’s wings flexed and once again, without even realising what was happening, you found yourself flat in your back. “The possibilities are endless. Should I,” he sucked sharply on your nipple, “Do this? Or this?” He pressed wet, open-mouth kisses down your stomach.  
You gasped his name when he took your thighs in his hands and spread them so he could settle between them. He lifted your right leg over his shoulder, pressing himself as close to your body as he could manage and skimmed his knuckle along your lips, gathering your wetness before brushing against your clit with a feather-light touch. Again, his name left your mouth on a phantom breath.  
“Louder, honey. It’s just us. I wanna hear you,” he said as he dipped his head, placing soft kisses against you. When he slipped his tongue between your folds, you whimpered. He smiled against your skin and did it again, pressing the flat of his tongue firmly against you.  
“Oh, shit, yes,” you sobbed. “Gabe…”  
He hummed, swirling his tongue around your clit before sucking it between his lips to draw on it. Spurred on by the choked off little mewls and his name, said in such venerated supplication, he slid a finger inside of you. It was his turn to groan at the way your hips stuttered and the broken cry that punched it’s way out of you. It wasn’t long before you demanded more, he added a second finger.  
You couldn’t remember ever being so close so fast. It usually took a while, and even then it was a crapshoot. Now, however, you felt your orgasm building already. “Baby, please, I’m so close…”  
Gabriel redoubled his efforts, adding another finger and crooking them inside of you, using just the tiniest bit of his grace to guide him exactly where you needed him.  
“Oh, god, Gabriel,” you moaned, desperate.  
Instead of answering, he pushed his grace again, causing phantom fingers to roll your nipples. That was all you needed. The sensations coalesced, swirling through your body before shattering. Your orgasm crashed through you and you clenched around his fingers. Gabe stayed with you, gentling you through aftershocks until finally he pulled away as it became too much. He pressed one last, soft kiss to you before he licked his lips and moved back up your body, settling his hips against yours.  
You leaned up and kissed him heatedly. Your fingers once again found their way into his wings, stroking through the feathers.  
“Now,” you demanded, reaching between you to guide him.  
For a being not known for exercising even a modicum of control over his baser nature, he was intensely gentle, rocking his hips little by little, slowly sinking into you.  
“Fuck, Sugar,” he growled when his hips settled against yours.  
You had never felt so perfectly full before, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, keeping him as deep as possible. Your hips began rocking against him involuntarily, soft whimpers escaping your throat. “Gabriel…”  
His wings tucked under you, lifting you both so that you were settled in Gabriel’s lap. You wound your arms around his neck and ground down his cock, rocking your hips in a smooth motion.  
Gabriel hissed your name as your fingers found their way into his feathers again. He reached between you, pressing his thumb lightly against your clit and rubbing in tight circles. “Come on, honey, I want to feel you come on my cock. You feel so good, so wet… Come for me.”  
A soft, wordless cry forced its way from your throat as you tightened around him.  
“That’s it, good girl. You think you got another in you?”  
You nodded, knowing that it’s what he wanted to hear and hoping that your body would keep up. Who in their right mind says no to an orgasm? you think to yourself.  
Gabriel huffed out a breathless laugh. “Challenge accepted, Sugar. One day soon we’re going to see how long you last before you say no to another orgasm.”  
“Mmm I can’t even be mad that you’re listening to my thoughts,” you mutter, rolling your hips just for the fireworks lighting up your system.  
“You’re broadcasting. And talking too much. I was hoping to make you scream instead,” he said, setting his teeth in the center of the anti-possession tattoo on your shoulder.  
“You’re making me do all the work and you want me to scream?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.  
“Oh, sweets, as I said before, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he said. His hand sank into your hair and pulled you in for a kiss that had you feeling breathless. “You ready, Sugar?”  
“Yesss,” you hissed, arching into his touch as he maneuvered you onto your back once again.  
He lifted your calves over his shoulders, and guided himself back inside of you. He was beautiful like this, all golden and strong, and you could see the fire in his eyes, the archangel that his vessel struggled to completely contain. And then, he shook his wings out and they spread behind him.  
Your breath punched out of your lungs roughly and your eyes immediately filled with tears. It was like looking at a too-bright sunset. You couldn’t look away even though your eyes were burning and you reached for him almost blindly.  
“Close your eyes, baby. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, gripping your fingers between his.  
Your eyes drifted shut as he began a slow, deep pace, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in just this side of rough.  
Sex was fun, but you’d never felt like this before. This was intense. This was benediction. This was almighty. This was holy.  
From behind your eyelids, you could sense the light getting brighter and realised that Gabriel’s grace was shining bright and brighter, and that the bright he shined, the rougher he was with you. Before long, he was fucking you into the mattress like it was his reason for existing. You were practically bent in half and loving every second of it.  
“Fuck, I’m gonna come. Tell me you’re close,” he asked, his thumb once again slicking tight circles against your tiny, over-sensitive nub.  
Before you could respond, you felt his grace join his thumb, sucking on your clit while his thumb never ceased sweeping over it, and you were there, cresting and riding the waves of pleasure that rushed through your system.  
As your orgasm hit you, the sudden, tight clasp of your body began milking him, and Gabriel became overwhelmed as well. He clapped his free hand over your eyes as his grace flared out, bursting every bit of glass in your room and plunging you into darkness as his orgasm pulsed through him. He gasped into your chest for a moment before he could lift his head again.  
“Fuck, Sugar, are you okay?” he demanded, snapping his fingers to repair the damage and lights.  
“No,” you muttered, letting your legs drop to the sides.  
“What happened?” he asked, frantically checking you for any signs of injury.  
“You ruined me for any other man,” you said with a laugh.  
Gabriel treated you to an exasperated look, but it didn’t last long before it settled into deep satisfaction. He settled down on top of you, not ready to leave the warm, wet clasp of your body or to give up full-body skin to skin contact. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck and began licking a teasing pattern onto your skin. Of course, you had no way of knowing that that pattern was his name in Enochian.  
“We should clean up,” you said eventually without any real conviction.  
Gabriel shifted, finally slipping out of you completely and rolled to his back, his wings shimmering into nothingness once more. He pulled you to him so that you were splayed across his chest. He snapped his fingers and you, your clothes, and the sheets were back in order as if nothing had ever happened. The only proof that you two had done anything was the deep, delicious ache between your thighs and your messy hair. “I’m not fixing your hair and I don’t think you should, either.”  
“What? Why? How bad is it?” you asked, sitting up and reaching for your brush.  
“Don’t, please? It looks so good like that,” Gabriel asked softly, running his hand over it lightly so as not to disturb it. “It’s all tousled and sexy.”  
You lay back without any prompting, tucking into his side again and slipping your fingers under his shirt to idly pet his stomach.  
“You wanna call Cassie?” he asked after a while.  
“Probably should. Think he’ll come? We haven’t been in here that long.”  
“Honey, the sexual tension between the two of us was so thick you could have spread it on toast. There is absolutely no way that they don’t know what we’ve been up to.”  
You groan softly, steeling yourself for the onslaught of teasing that was about to come your way.  
“Cas, you got your ears on?” you called into the empty room.  
Cas materialised seconds later, facing the corner and covering his eyes. “Oh. Oh, it’s a good thing my vessel can’t get cavities,” he said disgustedly.  
“We’re decent, Cas, you can uncover your face.” You were still curled against Gabriel’s side and his fingers took over idly tracing his name into your skin.  
“I...Nope,” Cas said. With a snap of his fingers, your door rematerialised and he disappeared.  
“Let’s go get breakfast. I know this great breakfast place in Vienna,” Gabriel said, lifting his hand to snap you there. “It’s just opening and they have the absolute best breakfast in the world. They have their own apiary and the honey is -”  
“No, wait Gabe. I don’t want to go to Vienna. I want to stay home and make brownies in the waffle iron and watch shitty movies. Besides, as uncomfortable as Cas was, I bet we can make Dean blush. C’mon. Let’s go see how embarrassed we can make him,” you said, sliding out from under his arm and hauling him off of the bed.  
“Fine, but you better add extra chocolate chips to those waffles if I’m not getting Viennese honey,” he groused.  
“I’ll even make you homemade caramel,” you said, pulling him down for one last kiss before you left your little sanctuary.


End file.
